


Tiptoe

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dancing, F/F, F/M, How Do I Tag, John is not interested in Mary, M/M, Sherlock is a nervous bab, balletlock, lots of lesbians
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:18:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6972541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Coach wants me to work on my posture, so I have to go watch the ballet class.”</p><p>“Good luck, mate. Those girls will eat you alive.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tiptoe

It's been a few weeks since John's first year at a new school, and his last in general. Rugby practices were after school every day, usually lasting about two hours. After his first day, the rest of the practices were held outside, no matter the weather. Even during rain storms coach had them on the field getting ready for the season. And John was okay with that. What he really wanted was the captain position, and he knew that in order to get it he had to be better than good. He tried his damn hardest during practice, and put all his effort into it every day. So when the coach pulled him into his office after practice one day, John was pushing back any desires to do backflips.

“What can I do for you, coach?”

“Listen Watson, I like you. You've got so much potential, and you're really close to snagging that captain position.”

He was ecstatic. “Oh my God, really?!”

Coach chuckled. “Yes, really. But there's just...one thing you need to work on.”

John's face fell. “What do you mean?”

 

John left the coach's office quietly and made his way back to the boys locker room. When he opened the door, Lestrade was waiting for him, already out of his uniform.

“So, what'd the coach say?”

John sighed and ran a hand through his short blond locks and went to sit on a bench positioned in the middle of two sets of lockers. Bill Murray and Philip Anderson, two other players, had just gotten out of the shower and were changing when John came in.

“Coach wants me to work on my posture, so I have to go watch the ballet team.”

Bill laughed from behind him. “No kidding? That's rough.”

“There's nothing wrong with the ballet team,” Mike Stamford said after stepping out of the shower. John had been surprised and delighted when Mike joined the rugby team, and over the past few weeks they've bonded over Doctor Who and medical interests. “They're nice enough ladies.”

“Are you kidding mate?” Philip scoffed, pulling on a plain blue tee shirt. “They're monsters!”

“Ain't you got a girlfriend who does ballet?” Lestrade asked, boredly playing with his hair.

“Yeah, but that doesn't change the fact that those girls are brutal!”

“You're over exaggerating, mate.” Bill said, rolling his eyes.

“Tommy Adams accidentally left his gym bag in the bleachers and went to go get it after school! The team was practicing then and made him waste an hour of his time explaining why he was in there! He got in trouble with his parents.”

“Tommy Adams is a fucking pervert, idiot.” John laughed, standing up. He went to his locker and grabbed his duffel. “They're just a bunch of girls in pink shoes. Nothing scary about them.”

Lestrade laughed. “Yeah, maybe you can find you a nice girlfriend.”

“Oi, he's right! How long have you been here, no girl on your shoulder? Even Greg's got a girlfriend.”

“Has not, he's got that older Holmes boy Mycroft. Didn't you know?” Philip corrected.

“Same thing!”

“I don't need a girlfriend,” John said, closing his locker door. He adjusted the strap of his duffel.

“Sure you don't.” Mike said, rolling his eyes. “Look, I know someone who's had their eye on you since you got here! Tall, dark haired, great cheekbones,”

“Stamford, are you talking about fucking Sherlock Holmes?”

“Yeah, why?”

Philip groaned. “He's a fucking weirdo! You see what he wears? I'd kill myself before I went out of the house looking like that. His parents must be embarrassed.”

“What's it your fucking business?” John snapped. He made his way to the door, eyes still glaring at Anderson. “It's just clothes. No big deal about it.”

“What, have you got some sorta crush on him or something?”

“Shut up, before I punch you in the dick. I'm leaving before the girls start practice and I'm late.”

Lestrade pat his shoulder sympathetically. “Good luck, mate. Those girls will eat you alive.”

* * *

When John got to the gym, he was glad to find that they hadn't started and were still setting up stereos and dancing mats. He made his way to the middle of the room and looked for whoever was in charge. He decided it must have been the older woman doing mandatory checks, and tapped gently on her shoulder. She turned around and smiled.

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I'm uh...here to watch the girls dance? I-I know that sounds weird, but I'm on the rugby team, and coach wanted me to work on my posture. He said the best way was to watch the girls on the ballet team...”

The old woman chuckled sweetly and readjusted her hair bun. Then she jotted something down on the clipboard she held and looked back to John. “Go ahead love, you won't bother me none. Find some place to sit down, the girls were just getting ready to start. You can call me Mrs. Hudson if you need anything, um...”

“Oh, John! It's... yeah, John.” He nodded and walked over to a comfortable looking spot a bit away from the girls. He cracked his back and sat down, pulling out his phone to pass the time.

Lestrade had already blown it up with texts asking him how it was going. John decided to ignore them and opened up the app he downloaded for reading comics. He had an entire collection at home, but if he wanted to indulge himself anywhere else this made it easy. He quietly read an older issue of Captain America while the team finished setting up.

“Hey there.”

John quickly looked up and saw two of the girls standing over him. One was shorter than the other with a blond pixie cut and kind looking eyes. The taller one had long black hair that seemed to bounce around her shoulders.

“Hello.”

“I'm Janine, this is my girlfriend Mary. We couldn't help but notice a boy in here.”

“Boys don't usually come in here,” Mary explained. “Not during practice.”

“You must be here for rugby,” Janine said, looking at Mary. “That's the only explanation I can think of.”

“Yeah, actually. Coach said it'd be helpful...” John confirmed, looking over to the side at the girls putting their shoes on. One of them looked over and waved, so he waved back.

“Makes sense.”

“Oh definitely. Thank god you're not some pervert. There's only one guy allowed in here, but he's part of the team anyway so it's fine.” Janine inquired.

“I think Sherlock basically counts as a girl, Janine.” Mary giggled.

John's heart skipped a beat.

He already knew Sherlock was part of the ballet team, but hearing the others name always made his chest flutter. He hadn't really talked to the boy, but he'd seen him around school with his friends Irene and Molly. So knowing he'd get to watch Sherlock dance filled him with so much happiness. 

Mrs. Hudson called the girls over suddenly. They waved goodbye and went to join the rest of the team. John waved back and stopped. He could see familiar brown curls amongst the girls and long, thin legs in a black leotard and tutu. He wasn't surprised to see Irene and Molly standing next to him, in matching pink skirts. 'Dear Future Husband' started playing from one of the speakers and John knew they were going to start soon. He put his phone up and sat back to watch the show. 

The girls took turns dancing to different songs. Molly danced to the first one, a more fast paced routine but this was just practice. John made an attempt to watch them, but by the time '7 Things' by Miley Cyrus started playing for a girl with darker skin and frizzy black hair (named Sally, he heard) John wished very much that he wasn't there. Sure it was good for his form, but it was just so...

Boring.

But then a song he recognized called 'Ne T'en Ves Pas' started playing, and Sherlock positioned himself in the center of the gym. John became a bit more interested.

Sherlock's dancing was a bit softer than the other girls had been. It looked as if he needed a partner to dance with, but he managed just fine, his arms held out and legs moving around an imaginary person. John desperately wished he could be the one dancing with him. He imagined his arms around Sherlock's waist, guiding the taller around the gym in front of the entire school, dipping him and leaning down closer and closer until their lips met. John blushed at the thought. He really was in deep.

He hadn't realized two hours had passed when the girls clapped as Sherlock finished, bowing. John joined in and stood up with his duffel around his chest. He made his way to the team to thank Mrs. Hudson for letting him stay and watch.

“Oh, you're welcome dear. Hope you learned a thing or two,” she laughed, winking. John laughed as well, scratching behind his head. 

“John?”

He turned around and smiled. “Hey, Sherlock.”

The brunette stood in front of him, shifting the weight on his feet occasionally. His cheeks were painted with a light blush and he looked behind him. Molly and Irene motioned at him to 'Go on' with their hands and he sucked in a breath, turning back to John, who looked at him with a curious gaze. 

“So um...did you, enjoy the dancing?”

“Yes, actually. Though truthfully,” John whispered. “I only came to watch you. And you were great.”

Sherlock flushed and bit his bottom lip. “Well...thank you, John. But listen there was, um...something I'd like to ask.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“The girls and I are having a small get together later and, I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me? You don't have to stay the night, of course, but...”

“Sure, I'd be happy to come over.”

Sherlock paused. “...really?”

“Yeah! Is it gonna be at your house?”

“Y-yes. I'll text you the address, don't worry. I'm glad you're coming.”

“Do you have my number?”

Sherlock turned around and started his way back to the girls. “I'll text you!”

John laughed. He didn't want to know how Sherlock would get his number; that's what would make it so interesting. The teen pulled his phone back out and decided now would be a good time to answer Lestrade's texts.


End file.
